


A Rose and Radio

by RogueBloodfur



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Cannibalism, F/F, F/M, Slow Burn, Stalking, alastor is a cannibal, work in progress tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22106656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueBloodfur/pseuds/RogueBloodfur
Summary: Rose lives rough in her small home town. With not much to her name, her life is flipped when a mysterious voice offers a way out.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s), Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47





	1. Breaking Radio Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to Brooke, Juno, Sorii, Shirwave, and everyone in The Dapper Dresser server who encouraged me to be selfish and write this. Enjoy the show!

A long winter had blown through her hometown, spring or even summer seeming like a far thought for residents. It was bitter, the wind causing the near century-old homes to creak and ache. Each house was ancient and nothing new was ever built here. For  _ some reason _ , the construction never finished.

Though the town started as one lone cabin in the early 1900s, the small, forested town now landed around a couple hundred in residents, at least all year round. It was a hot spot for deer hunting and getaways during its winter

Yet, even if the hoard of holiday vacationers, hunters, and hikers had long since left, the winter remained stubborn. It was supposed to be the coldest winter in nearly a century of recorded weather.

Rose had grown up here. She despised her hometown and the multitude of hated and painful memories. She hadn’t grown up easily. Being the eldest of three had meant many expectations weighed heavily on her. 

She didn’t meet any of them, resulting in her parents' constant pestering and monitoring. They shoved her for good grades but she didn’t have the motivation to go to a big university as they wanted after high school. Her siblings mocked her for such a poor example she was setting. Her family constantly teased and taunted her about how much of a failure she was.

But, she did her best to persist in life.

Rose stepped out of the cafe’s warmth, saddened that she had to leave now. She would enjoy eternity in the cafe but she was forced on a schedule that allowed her to come home just in time for the rest of her family to get home.

Rose peeked at her phone carefully through her dull and faded scarf, her hands trembling in torn gloves from the cold. She didn’t have too much longer in the cold, thankfully, as her cafe spot not far from home. It was the only place where she got the silence and solitude to get through her college course work as well as job, well, commission stuff. 

She held close to her person a small laptop bag with various accessories and not much else though that was mostly lack of need to carry more. Rose was wrapped in a thick coat that felt like her only barrier from the chill. Her shirt and jeans did little to dissuade the biting cold. She felt lucky she recently got boots. They made the walk more bearable.

Rose began her ritualistic mental conversation of how much she can’t be the child her parents wanted her to be. There weren't any well-paying jobs or any jobs if she really thought hard, around where she lived. There were some decent jobs during the holidays but, after? All the jobs dry up. Rose managed with her commissions and prints, being a decent artist, to give herself minor comforts and let her stay with her parents. 

Her family refused to acknowledge any of her efforts nor did they enjoy her  _ unstable _ lifestyle. She was mocked for  _ fake  _ college, no boyfriend, and everything and anything else they could think of. She had cruel parents, cruel siblings. She had her dreams insulted, desires demonized, and interests ridiculed. Nothing she ever did was enough if it didn’t benefit everyone else and done in the  _ traditional _ way. They attacked her art the most but Rose had learned long ago to not talk back if she wanted a roof over her head.

But, being an artistic and creative person had its positives. She could absolutely drown in books, drawing, or anything else to take her mind off of her reality. Her favorites were where people like her family got what they deserved. Revenge. Rose never dreamed of achieving something like that, feeling she would chicken out. She also listened to just about anything if it blocked out the sounds of the outside world. Songs, podcasts, lectures. As her mom would say, she gets lost in a fantasy world. But, by all that existed, she loved getting lost.

She didn’t care what anyone thought of it, especially what her family thought. She learned early on that opinions from others were absolute bullshit, though they still hurt like hell. She only wishes she could sink into her fantasy away from their insistent badgering and bullshit permanently. But, she couldn’t. So, Rose dealt with it in silence.

A few minutes of walking later, she stepped up her front porch, mood sinking like a rock as she realized her walk was over, and into the house she was supposed to call home. 

She looked around, not greeted by anyone. Her dad called from the room if she had a real job yet but she didn’t answer. Her siblings didn’t even look up at her, muttering to friends online that it was just some person coming inside.

Rose blocked it all out after hearing everything and once in her room with the door shut, tears beaded in her vision. 

Being able to shut it out never made it any less painful. She was a complete disappointment to everyone who was supposed to care and love her. It hurt. A deep, shaking breath and wipe of tears later, she sat at her desk and drifted into her so-called forbidden fantasy land and drew.

Rose was at it for hours, drawing all through the night before a low humming peeked around the wall her music created. She frowned, concentration on her current piece snapped. She paused the music, hoping it was some background effect, but the hum remained. 

_ Are these damn headphones broken after a month!? _ She is going to scream if that’s the case.

Rose turned them off. 

On. 

Reset. 

Plugged in and out. 

She tried absolutely everything she could think of and it remained. She was going to panic. This was her only escape.

She eventually gave up and set them down, standing from her desk. She refused to get upset and teased for reacting in such a way.  _ Fine _ . She’ll stop working. Rose can’t focus without her music anyways. No. Instead, she’ll sleep.

A quick change into sweatpants and a t-shirt for pajamas later, she was curled up in her bed. She gets wrapped up in the layers on her bed to fight off the cold and calm her annoyance, her consciousness faded into what Rose hoped would be wonderful dreams.

But they weren’t.

Rose snapped awake in the dark night, her chest aching from her rapidly pounding heart. She felt scared, hearing her heartbeat in her ears.  _ What happened?  _ Did she have a nightmare? This felt too surreal to be from just a nightmare.  _ What nightmare?  _ Maybe there was something that woke her up. She can’t recall a noise and her family still remained asleep. Her eyes darted around the room, her breathing hitching a bit as she tried to remain calm. No one else could be here either. Windows shut and locked. So is her door.

Maybe she just needs to turn on her light to calm down.

_ Maybe _ .

Her feet slid to the ground from her bed. As her form stood, it shook violently from her head to her toes. Fear began to fill her and she let her memory lead her blindly to her light switch. 

Before she let her fingers flip the switch, she dared a look at her room in the dark. Her heart leaped in her throat.  _ Were those eyes in the darkness? _ She immediately flipped the lights on and there her room was.

_ Empty. _

Has her room always been so frightening in the dark?

She checked each corner she could, thoughts of something lurking in her room still haunting her. Rose didn’t check for long, exhaustion suddenly weighing down on her. Wasn’t she just asleep? Her eyes drifted to a digital clock on her desk as she sunk into the chair.

1:37 a.m.

Rose groaned internally. She had no reason to be awake this early. But sleep wasn’t an option with how still terrified she felt and the hunger the ebbed at the edge of her mind.

Her hunger came full-fledged as her adrenaline passed and she gave in. She crept out quietly to the kitchen, each step gently pressing into the hardwood floor. She moved slowly to her destination, not daring to wake anyone at this time.

Once in the dimly lit room, she slowly opened the fridge to find nothing too appetizing. She saw a lot of other stuff but she wasn't allowed to eat such things. Her hand reached in slowly, scanning shelves before landing on some old Chinese. She still didn't want to wake her family so, once a fork was in her hand, she headed to her room with the cold food.

Rose plops down once again at her desk once again as the food slid into her mouth. She didn’t desire to stay in this shitty, terrible mood so she turned on electro swing,  _ her favorite _ , paper, and pencil. She’ll make the best of this terribly early morning.

She doesn’t recall falling asleep but when her eyes snapped open from the pounding in her chest, she realized she had fallen asleep at her desk. She pulls herself up, her head feeling heavy as she tried to. 

Tired fists try to rub the tiredness out as the clock showed it was only three hours since she last checked.  _ Still early. _ Maybe this time she can just stay awake.

The despised humming, now sounding very much like static, had returned to her headphones. Deja Vu was tied around the whole situation, a sense of danger grabbing her.

She started up her playlist once more, rubbing her eyes a couple more times. She was about to drift back into her fantasy world of music and art when an unfamiliar voice oozes through her headphones.

“Good morning,  _ Darling _ .”


	2. Small Radio Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now she gets to meet a particular man and Rose meets a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is dedicated to Brooke, Juno, Sorii, Shirwave, and everyone in The Dapper Dresser server who encouraged me to be selfish and write this. Enjoy the show!

Rose’s mouth remains agape as her mind lagged behind. Her eyes ran over the screen, looking for a sign that the individual was coming from the computer in front of her.  _ Had she jumped into a voice call on accident? _ She grips the mouse quietly, her hand and finger jerking as she looked through task manager and other programs for some kind of malware. 

There was nothing.  _ How is this even possible? _

“There’s nothing even open. This has to be a joke-” soft mutters of verbalizing her annoyance and confusion left her lips as her gaze narrowed at the offending computer.   
  
“Dear me, how rude! No good morning back?” Rose’s hand jerked from the mouse as if it had burned her, her body tensing at the voice returning to seemingly mock her. Could she  _ hear _ the smile in his voice?

“There’s no way that’s towards me,” she says aloud as she shook her head, a trembling laugh leaving her throat. _ She must’ve just finally lost it! _

“Hm. I’m positive my greeting reached the correct person, darling  _ bluebird _ .” Her already tense body gave a cold, violent shiver down the length of her spine.  _ What’s with the nickname?  _ Though the name didn’t feel familiar at all, it felt  _ defining _ for her as if it held an unknown truth at her core she couldn’t see. 

“I-I’m sorry, this has to be a glitch or some kind of mistake” she starts to whis[er softly, now recalling the slumber of her family.  _ She can’t wake them.  _ But doubt still grasped her confused mind. The nickname wasn’t hers. If that’s the case,  _ why is she responding? _ “I- I didn’t call anyone-”

“Hahaha! Dear me, you are quite the comedian! No one needs to call me here. I can choose when I’m heard!” That verbal grin remained in his voice, a feat she never could imagine was possible. But, Rose was lonely and tired. She hardly had the will to fight such a demanding voice.

Everything in her person wanted her to stop this conversation.  _ This was dangerous. _ She ignored the warnings.   
  
“Fine. Good morning- Uh”  _ Wait, what is his name? _ He never truly introduced himself. Should she even introduce  _ herself? _

But before she could further question it mentally, he understood and fixed her predicament. “Alastor, darling! Call me Alastor.” He says in a rather cheerful, announcer-like voice that seemed to just be how he spoke. She envied his energeticness. She could only wish for that kind of energy this early. But, he also sounded way too chipper to be a real person.

“Okay, Alastor. What do you want? I don’t have anything you could possibly want.” She could only assume he was some kind of scammer type, which would suck for him. She’s a talentless, broke, and low-class girl who lives at home long after she should have moved out.

His response is something she could not have anticipated. 

He  _ laughed _ at her.

And it made her face flush bright with a tsunami of emotions as she realized what he was doing.  _ What was so funny!? _ She could’ve burned holes into the screen, his mocking tone making her feel defensive.

“Hey, what’s so-” she was immediately cut short. 

“Funny? Why, dear, you are!! You’re an  _ absolute riot. _ You do have something I desire but that conversation can wait. No no no, I’m here to… talk.” A sinister tone wrapped his voice like a gift to her but that could not hide the constant smile her ears always picked up.   
  
“Okay, well, what do you want to talk about?” She was fine with talking, though the request felt strange to her. This felt like a strange amount of effort for someone to talk to her.   
  
“How about we start with you! I would be very partial to hearing about my darling bluebird.” She felt the harsh shiver mix with her disgust.  _ His _ ? What kind of sick weirdo is she talking to? 

She was going to object but even though her mouth opened to do so, she rethought her choice. It was late and she still felt lonely. The conversation was already going and she could only wish for another chance to talk like this.

It’s not like she’s ever going to meet him, _ right? _

“Okay. About me- Uhm, well… where would you prefer me to start?” She still had no clue what this faceless man wanted.  _ Oh stars, is this man a pervert? _

“Well, darling,” The smiling voice cooed to her. “What kind of work do you do?” Is this some government work satisfaction survey maybe?

“I- I don’t have a real job” she begins in the softest of voices, her expression dropping as she is reminded of how much of a disappointment she was. But, it didn’t remain solemn. “But I make do with drawing for commissions! I also do some professional design work on occasion.” She absolutely beamed as she passionately spoke of her art. It was the one thing she was proud of and her one mortal treasure. 

“An artistic type! You must be full of passion and talent, my dear!” He was  _ prodding  _ but it didn’t feel wrong. If anything, she was more than willing to continue until the compliments.

“I- I am passionate, I guess. It’s hard to stay passionate when you’re mocked-” The smile was fading again, her confidence faltering. “And I have no talent-” He intruded on her sentence yet again.

“My dear! This simply won’t do at all! Be loud! BE PROUD!! Show the world what you can do!” Alastor spoke loud and proud as if trying to infect the marrow of her bones with the words.

The words took her by surprise. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed such encouragement until she felt a few tears roll down her cheeks. Of all things, a disembodied voice gave her the most encouragement she’s heard in years. 

She let a small smile fall on her lips and happily, while keeping her words soft, conversed with the oddly nice and occasionally fiendish voice without restraint. She would answer just about any question she could while also keeping some grip on the reins when it was too personal. 

Time seemed to fly and eventually it was time for her to head on her usual excursion to the cafe. A soft goodbye to who she was starting to consider a friend and soon she was off to the warmth of morning coffee and books. Though Alastor’s presence had gained her confidence and might’ve aided in her work at home, she did not enjoy staying while she worked at home. Luckily, she had decided to head off before family had woken so she voided confrontation. 

_ This time. _

A short walk to and through the cafe later, she plopped down with coffee in hand and laptop ready for work. Though she had a pile of assignments to do, her mind was wandering off to other topics and subjects.

Alastor. The oddly charming, radio host sounding voice in her headset. She knew she had to be cautious but the mystery of who he actually was killed her inside. He was easy to talk to and she managed to talk all morning.

So, being a girl from the age of the internet, she turned to her best friend for answers. Browsing search results lead to some fascinating discoveries of other Alastors, mostly mythology Als. But, one didn’t follow that theme.

The radio host that was also a serial killer.  _ This has to be a joke. _

He was from Louisiana, which was ironic since that’s where she currently is. He died almost exactly 80 years ago. The accounts of his story sent shivers down her spine. It was intense, her emotions starting to spiral larger in intensity. The more she read, and the looming date on her mind, the more she began to consider-

A burst of laughter escapes her unexpectedly, a couple of other people looking over to her because of that. She gives an apologetic smile before hiding her face and thoughts. She had never in her life thought of something so  _ ridiculous _ . The guy has been dead for decades.

_ Absolutely not _ .

Alastor is some strange person on the internet with a low-quality microphone or some kind of voice filter. He hacked her computer or something to only talk. She didn’t exactly understand it all but she knew for a fact that dead men don’t talk through headphones. Or at all.

She calmed enough to sit up, pushing her hair out of her face before looking at her laptop. She was just clicking on the school tabs she had open when someone approached her. She looks up hesitantly.  _ Was she about to get kicked out? _

Yet, once her eyes landed on his face, she realized he was new to town. You usually could recognize everyone here unless they were a visitor or new. And new was rare.

“Hi, um, I’m sorry if this is strange but I just moved here and was wondering if you could show me around town?” Was he asking her out? She felt the beginnings of skepticism but nevertheless tried to remain positive.

“Well, maybe not right now.” His shy smile seemed to drop a bit as if worried she would full-on reject him. “I have to do some school assignments but... we can agree on a better time to meet up?”

He seemed to take this as an invitation to sit down, Rose unable to deny him. He sticks his hand out as he introduced himself. “I’m Lucas Wintersfield.”

Rose stared at him, slightly off-put by his forwardness but her hand reaches to his and grasps it. “Rose. May I ask what prompted you to ask  _ me _ to show you around?” Her eyes narrow almost accusingly, still doubtful of his intentions.

“Oh, um.” He rubs his neck a bit nervously before giving this smirk as his eyes glance over her. “Your laughter caught my attention. What caused it?” 

Rose stiffens, forcing out a laugh. “A, uh, meme caught me off guard,” she blurted.  _ Why was she lying? _ “Nothing serious.”

“Mm. Okay. Well, can I get your number? For rescheduling the tour of course. Noon tomorrow here?” He felt insistent, pushy. But, Rose brushes it off and puts her number in his phone. He thanks her and heads off on his way.

She watches a moment, baffled by what had just transpired. She went over the past few minutes, processing and then laughing again quietly at the idea of her- the voice being a dead man. She rolls her eyes and the idea was soon gone from all her thoughts, only to be remembered too late.


	3. UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. Small update.

I am so sorry to all who decided to follow this series! A Rose and a Radio will sadly be put on an indefinite hiatus. I do plan to return to this someday but offline I have developed a whole new character and story that I have grown very passionate about and want to do a full story for.

This is not another Alastor Fanfic, though he still plays a large part in the early part of her story. This story will be Valentino focused and I expect it to someday be so far off canon it may look like a dreadful interpretation. But this is a project I am extremely excited about. 

So, even though I won't be actively working on A Rose and A Radio, I am still actively writing! I still have a lot more to plan for this.

But, if you are interested in more Alastor based works, I would like to point you in the direction of AlastorsBambi's Friend on the Other Side and NotBrooke's Dapper Dresser. They are two great fics that are updated rather frequently! 

Thank you for reading and see you all soon!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram for art and sneak peeks of the new work @roguebloodfurofficial


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